


Run With It

by Firefly410



Series: A Previous Life [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: 1930s, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Cajun Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Cannibalism, Consent, Homophobia, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Serial Killers, Sex Positive Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26280448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefly410/pseuds/Firefly410
Summary: Anthony Robello is a 16 year old boy in the Italian Mafia who is just looking for a break, that is until he meets a man by the name of Alastor Devaux.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: A Previous Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909501
Comments: 16
Kudos: 158





	1. Run With It

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction on this site! Please excuse any grammar mistakes! Also I do not condone these types of age differences, but I based this off of when I assumed the characters died and how old they are. Please enjoy!

Anthony Robello was nowhere near perfect. He was capable of some truly horrifying things, the fact of the matter was that he simply didn't want to. He didn't want to live a life of crime, selling drugs and shit, just to make his pops happy. Anthony was...different, to put it nicely. When his mama was alive he would dress up in her clothes, wear her makeup, comment on the movie stars he would see in the picture shows. He wanted to be a baker, open his little shop and make the most beautiful cakes and treats that the world has ever seen. That world was quickly broken around him once he turned thirteen. His mother died due to the flu. She just got sick one day and never recovered. After she died there was nothing for Anthony to dream for, nothing to hope for. After she died something in Anthony changed, he shut down and began to focus completely and solely on the family 'business'. Even Molly, his sister, didn't seem to matter anymore. 

Now here he was, walking along the streets of New York. The stock market crashed, leaving a devastating shock across the nation. His family was even struggling, people just didn't have the money to buy the goods. Anthony now spent his time trying to pickpocket or giving 'quality time' to people who were closeted. It was true, Anthony was desperate for any sort of touch. His mother would hold him and sing to him almost everyday until Anthony fell asleep. Now that she was gone, who would give him that? He was desperate, hopeless. Thoughts of just offing himself became a regular occurrence. In fact that was the plan, usually he was able to get drugs from John's who paid enough. He would get the money, give it to his pops, then just go in his room and never wake up. Tonight had to be the night. Pops found out about his youngest son, finally learning that Anthony had an interest for men and men only. The beating was much worse than Anthony ever got before. 

He was standing on a street, one popular for lousy husband's looking for a good time. A man was approaching him, tan skin, redish brown hair, the biggest smile he had ever seen in his life. "Heya babe, lookin' for some fun?" Anthony purred, leaning towards the man. 

"Well for a matter of fact, I am! How much for oh...two hours?" The man asked, his smile only stretching. 

"Two dollars, it costs extra to see the feet." Anthony responded, looking down at the man. He was definitely older, much older. Young Anthony didn't really have much choice but to do whatever he wanted. 

"Of course, my dear!" He praised, reaching in and getting the money from his jacket. 

"K-kinda dangerous carryin' money 'round like that, huh?" Anthony chucked, looking around for any greedy John to approach. Red flags and alarms rang through his mind as he stared at this shorter older man. Though as much as his mind screamed at him to run, he couldn't move. No. He didn't want to run. 

"Shall we make our leave?" The smile seemed to stretch wider. 

"A-ain't we doin' this 'ere?" Anthony replied, keeping his eyes wide and walls up. Run. 

"I'm afraid I like a little more class, my dear!" The man cheered, wrapping an arm around Anthony's waist. 

The boys went to a near by hotel that was known for prostitution and all other sorts of shady things. "This is classy?" Anthony spit, a comment that didn't get much more of a glare from the man. "Ya gonna tell me yer name or…?" Anthony trailed off, following the man to a small room. It was quite small with nothing much than a small bed and a nightstand. The radio had been taken out, window broken, definitely not the best place in the world. "Aight, sooo whatcha wanna start with, ya got two hours. Well more like an hour and forty five minutes." Anthony rolled her eyes. 

"You are quite the entertainer aren't you?" Alastor replied, a cold glare on his face, his smile never faltered. 

"Yeah well, ya paid for this so." Anthony shrugged. 

"Get on the bed." The man snapped, cold and uncaring. Anthony did as he was told, fear slowly rising inside of him. His mind screamed at him to fight, to try his best to run as fast as he could. To take out his gun and shoot this creepy fucker right in the face. Once again, he couldn't. The man brought out some ropes, receiving a noticeable gulp from Anthony. "Hold still." The man smiled, binding him to the bed tightly. 

"Kinda tight there." Anthony chuckled nervously. His eyes widened as the man pulled out a knife. "Whoa, whoa, 'm not into that stuff." He nearly growled, pulling against the reigns. 

The man said nothing, he just stood there sharpening his knife. His eyes were lidded, his smile was more gentle and easy at this point in time. "This won't be over quickly, you will soon learn that I don't like to rush." The man spoke, now walking over to the bed. 

"Thank you." 

The man's eyes widened, his smile faltered only slightly. "Excuse me?" He spit, gripping the knife with what felt like an iron force. 

Anthony said nothing as tears weld in his eyes. "I was gonna off myself tonight. This way I won't disappoint my pops more." Anthony sighed. Who fucking cared, he would let go. Maybe if he told his secrets and dreams then it won't be as painful. This was the last chance he got.

"I don't understand." The man confessed, his fingers twitched slightly. 

" 'm gay. A fag. A ponce. A fairy. I have more, whatever ya prefer." Anthony said bitterly. "Shamed poor old pops until I started hookin'" Anthony continued, not giving the man a chance to answer. "Listen, I get ya ain't a shrink, but I got feelin's too! The only one who listened so far is a psychotic killer so, whatever." Anthony groaned, pulling against the ropes once more. 

"Loo-" 

"And sure! Would I like to be normal, be able to just enjoy life before we eventually all die? Of course!" Anthony protested, cutting the man off. 

"I don't-" 

"Don't wanna be the fuckin' disappointment of the family, buy y'know I can't help bein' this!" Tears were now falling down his cheeks. 

"Enough!" The man snapped. "So emotional blah blah blah, you're not crying! Begging! What's your problem? Why in hell would you want to die?" Alastor questioned, visibly upset by this. "Well? You've been talking this entire time a-and now nothing?" He cried, clearly angry by his lack of fear. 

"Can ya jus' kill me already? Then I'll be outta your hair." Anthony sighed, looking away from the man. 

His smile only grew as he cocked his head to the side. "No, I don't think I will!" He smiled. "What did you say your name was, my dear?" He mused. 

"Uh...Anthony?"

"Absolutely perfect! Now! Why don't you tell me about this family of yours?" He spoke eagerly. 

"Why? Ain't this enough? What if I jus' go to the police?" Anthony stated. "What's ya name anyway?" He spit. 

"You see my dear, There is no fun in just killing for no reason! True passion is the only way to get a true reaction from those who've hurt you in the past!" The man cried out, not really paying mind to his last question. "Oh my dear, the police aren't concerned with street performers such as yourself!" 

The words were cold, but true. Anthony almost felt warm by this, it had been so long since he was handed the truth by someone who didn't know anything about him. Sure he got the empty 'how are you doings' and 'sorry for your losses' from people who barely knew him. But this man had nothing personal with him, and yet the brutal, honest truth came out like any other sentence. "Yeah...so ya ain't gonna kill me?" Anthony spoke, his heart racing. 

"No, my dear!" The man cheered. He untied Anthony, leaving the young boy lost and confused. "How about a deal?" The man offered. 

"What could you possibly want from me?" Anthony spit, rubbing his aching arms. 

"Entertainment! I could always use a few extra hands…" The man trailed off, his words vague and mysterious. "I would love to see some passion from you dear Anthony, if you can give me that then you won't die!" The man exclaimed, wrapping an arm around him. 

"What the fuck! Ya ain't gonna kill me 'cause you wanna laugh at me?" Anthony protested, crossing his arms angrily. 

"I want to see some passion out of you my dear! Build back up that confidence that you so desperately lost! To see you lose your mind into madness over your first kill!"

"So what? Ya wanna a partner or some shit?" Anthony questioned, receiving a nod from the man next to him. "Alright, an' I get whateva I want?" He asked.

"Of course!" 

"I don't wanna be alone. I wanna be partners." Anthony answered pathetically. 

"I'm sorry! Romance is not on the table my dear." He shook his head.

"Well ya don't have to love me. Just cuddling. Please." Anthony nearly begged. Tears in his eyes. He must've sounded so desperate. His mind lingered on this bazaar situation he found himself in. It was 1929 and he was about to run away with a serial killer and do God knows what for him. One of two things would happen. One, he would live this secret life away from his family and might actually be happy. Two, he would refuse and die to the hands of this man. Either way, Anthony didn't have much of a choice it seems, of course only if he agreed on his half.

The man stared at Anthony with dangerous eyes. He seemed like he was almost...relieved? It must've been Anthony's imagination, but he didn't seem to be that upset. "No touching, but I suppose your company could last longer than a few...trips." He explained, standing from his spot to face Angel. His grin widened as he reached out his hand. "So it's a deal then?" He asked, a slight chuckle to his tone. 

Anthony stared at his hand, fear and confusion swirled in his eyes as his hands twitched. It was as if he was making a deal with the Devil himself. "O-okay, yeah, sure." Anthony replied, reaching out his hand to shake the shorter male's. "I needa know ya name though." Anthony replied, trying to resort to his sarcastic nature to drown out the fear and desire to break down and cry at the moment. 

"Call me Alastor." 

"So lots o' people hurt me, but 'm guessing yer looking for someone specific." Anthony sighed, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. 

"Think. Who has truly hurt you. Scarred you into an emotional, suicidal wreck." Alastor explained. 

This was still all too much for Anthony to process. He was just about to be killed and now this guy wants to kill someone for him for...entertainment? It just didn't make any sense. Though, the sixteen year old wasn't going to complain. "Have ya ever heard of Valentino?" Anthony trailed off, his voice shakey and fearful.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor and Anthony get to know each other a little better.

Anthony was walking down the streets, his heart was heavy and swollen with grief. His dear mama was with the angels now, he was all alone. He choked on his own tears as he stumbled through the streets. His chest was rattling as he fell against a brick wall. He just needed to get out, to leave the room that reeked of the stench of sickness and death. Her skin was deathly pale, her smile gone. Oh mama….

He whimpered gently as he held himself, his arms wrapped tightly around him to try and mimick the feeling of love and warmth his mama would give him. He wasn't able to say goodbye, but he remembered his mother's last words towards him. 'Don't be ashamed of who you are'. Yeah right, he could he arrested or worse if people found out he was gay. The world was not so kind. 

"What's a young thing like you doing out here?" 

The voice startled Anthony. He looked up to see a looming figure. The nicest clothes he'd ever seen, slicked back hair, a deep rattling voice. "O-oh, jus' needed t' get outta the house for a little bit." Anthony explained, a chill running down his spine. 

"Hmmm, how old are you kid?" The man asked.

"T-thirteen...I should get goin'." Anthony explained, trying to get up as quickly as possible. 

The man landed his hand on Anthony's shoulder, holding him in place. "What's the rush?" His voice was sickly sweet, Anthony could do nothing but shake his head. "Come on, I'm sure a young fellow like you is interested in a good time." The man suggested, pulling Anthony to his chest. 

"I-I don't...my family is expectin' me." Anthony whispered, looking away. "'Sides, ain't it a crime?" He smiled, trying to get through to this man. 

"How could it be a crime to be held?" The man smiled. Tracing his finger along Anthony's jaw. 

Held. That was something Anthony missed so much. His heart ached for his mother. "Y-you'll hold me?" Anthony asked, his voice was desperate and needy. 

"All night long sweetheart." The man whispered, dipping his head low to smell the boy's hair. 

"O-okay." 

Anthony barely whispered those words as he was backed against the wall. The man started to grab and pull at Anthony's body. Kissing him and sucking on his neck. He felt disgusting, wrong. He wanted to scrub his body from this man's touch. "W-wait!" Anthony called out as his clothes were being pulled off. "Stop!" Anthony cried, but he wasn't heard. The street wasn't that busy and it was the middle of the night, no one would be able to save him. 

The man turned Anthony over, without warning he began bucking his hips into Anthony's backside. His hands rested tightly against his hips, Anthony cried and screamed begging for it to be over. "Isn't this what you wanted? To be held? To be loved? Stop fucking crying!" The man yelled, bringing a hand down against his ass. Anthony just cried out, trying to keep quiet. The man's hips kept moving harder and harder. Anthony felt blood run down his thighs as he was fucked into the wall. "You're mine! You hear me!" The man cried as his hips slowed only for a moment to release his load. 

Anthony sat there whimpering. He collapsed on the ground and could do nothing but nod. Tears ran down his face. "I-I didn't want this." He whimpered. Sure being gay meant he would probably never have sex or be kissed, but not like this. He didn't want this. 

"Here, Val can take good care of you." He rolled his eyes, dropping a bag of drugs next to Anthony. 

"What is this?" He asked. It looked familiar, like the shit his family would sell. 

"Drugs. Make you feel good baby." Val whispered, his sickly sweet voice returned. 

Anthony reached for the tiny bag. The last thing he remembered was being fucked over and over again while his mind wandered to different places. 

Anthony woke up with a start. He was shaking and his cheeks were tear stained. 

"Bad dream?" Alastor asked, staring through the window as rain came down on the city. They were still in the shitty motel, they decided they would leave in the morning and go get some of Anthony's stuff. They could stay here for now. It wasn't that costly to stay, and they could get some extra money from Anthony's dad. 

Anthony just nodded. "When are we gonna get this guy?" Anthony asked bitterly, the memory rang through his mind. 

"Well, that all depends. Would you prefer a quick and easy death? Or would you like them to suffer, to be able to see the life leave his eyes as he regrets all that he has done to you?" Alastor explained, clearly too exciting about all of this.

Anthony felt anger bubble beneath his skin. "I wanna hurt 'em, badly." He confessed, his fist tightening. He got up and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. "Ya wanna stay for dinner? Molls and the rest of 'em will be out tonight. Can make ya something nice." Anthony offered. Cooking had always been a stress reliever for him, and with the combination of withdrawals and the thought of muder he was just itching to do something positive for once. 

Alastor seemed a bit taken back by the offer, but nodded nonetheless. After all he made a deal, more intimate settings was his part of the deal. "Of course this place won't work for what we need to do. How much money could you get from your family?" Alastor asked, walking around the small room. They would need to work out so much with this, he was almost giddy with pleasure as he thought about the way the man would die. He always had a thing for knives. They were slow, deliberate, elegant. Anthony on the other hand, seemed to have a preference for guns. Dull, loud, messy, just not suitable for the type of work he did. 

He didn't know who this guy was, but based on Anthony's very...graphic description, the world would be a better place anyway if he was gone. They came up with many different plans; strangulation, stabbing, drowning, none of them really stuck. So much work had to be done, but Alastor almost wanted it to keep going, the less time he had to spend with Anthony the better. He found that the young boy was loud, obnoxious, carried around his sexuality as if he wanted to get harassed. The sarcastic nature was very distracting, but there was something promising in the young boy. A sense of light and wonder that Alastor just couldn't quite place.

"Well, my...mama...left me an inheritance. Pops doesn't know about it. With Archie bein' the leadin' son and well taken care of, she wanted me an' Molls were taken care of." Anthony explained, a slight broken tone to his voice. "I kept it in a safe place, I'll grab it when we go." Anthony sighed. His family was well off and his mama left him quite a sum of money. If he kept hooking and pick pocketing, then they might be able to get by. Though apartments or houses were very hard to come by during these times. 

"Perfect! We'll use that. I assume someone of your nature would be able to acquire more permanent living spaces?" Alastor asked, his eyes were judgemental and that smile was almost mocking Anthony. 

Anthony just rolled his eyes and continued smoking his cigarette. "There are cheap places downtown. People abandoned them once the twenties hit and the war ended. Tryin' t' make it big out west an' shit." Anthony confessed, hoping no one moved in or the places weren't completely trashed. Alastor just nodded, a content smile on his face. 

______________________________________________________

Anthony brought Alastor to his house, large and very obviously belonged to a mobster. They walked inside and walked straight into the kitchen where Anthony immediately just sat down. "Feels nice t' be back." Anthony confessed, looking around the large kitchen. "So, 'm gonna shower an' pack up my stuff. After I'll make us something to eat, feel free t' look around an' do whateva." Anthony waved off as he made his way upstairs. 

Walking into his room, he smiled at the room. He didn't have much except for some recipes his mama gave him and some things like his cigarettes and clothes. Though it was nice to feel free of Alastor's looming gaze for once. He got in the shower and was able to relax his muscles and skin, scrubbing it raw until he nearly glowed red. Spending a night in the crusty motel was longer than Anthony ever wanted to spend again. He washed his golden blonde hair with a content sigh and smiled at the thought of getting out of her. Leaving his family for good. Though he knew they could never stay in New York, it was just too risky since he came from a big family and was about to kill someone in a big family. 

He stepped out of the shower and dried his hair, brushed his teeth and grabbed any toiletries from his closet that he would take with him. Leaving the sink alone so his pops would think that he died or some shit. Anthony got dressed in a simple button up with some dress pants, along with a vest to appear somewhat classy. He packed some clothes, his journal, pictures and his box of recipes. There wasn't much more he would need so he left his books and records alone, leaving them alone. Though he picked up an old book of fairy tales that his mother would read to him. Call him sentimental, but he packed it along with some of the letters he would write to his mama when she was sick. 

Carrying the bag downstairs he noticed Alastor looking at some of the family pictures on the wall and fireplace. "Alright. Anythin' ya like t' eat." Anthony called out, placing the bag by the staircase. 

"You got the money?" Alastor replied, walking over to the kitchen table. 

"Yes, it's in the bag." Anthony called out, getting the meat and other ingredients he would need to cook.

Alastor nodded as he watched Anthony begin to prepare the food. "What are you making?" He asked looking around the kitchen. 

"Cotoletta alla Bolognese." Anthony explained, pounding the meat until it was nice and thin. The two sat in silence as he cooked. The spices and meat mixed well together as Anthony became lost in thought. Excitement bubbled underneath him as he thought about running away. Granted it was with a complete stranger, but he would be free. He would be able to live his life the way he wanted to live it. Anthony placed the two portions on two dishes and shaved some truffles over them. He placed the plates on the table. He grabbed some wine and poured two glasses. "Godere!" He called out as he dug into his own meal. 

Alastor took a small bite as his eyes widened with pleasure. "This is fantastic Anthony, though I wonder how you got veal in such a difficult time." Alastor teased, taking a sip of wine. 

"Well when yer in a powerful family, ya only get the best." Anthony shrugged, enjoying his own meal. "My mama taught me how to cook." Anthony started, pausing to take a sip of wine. "She used t' dream of openin' a restaurant, then I wanted t' open my own bakery an' she was so proud." Anthony spoke, eating his meal as a smile stretched across his face. 

Alastor couldn't help but feel his own smile grow at the small story. He and his own mom were extremely close. She would make him Jambalaya whenever he was upset or sick. That was until when daddy came home in a drunken rage and beat her so hard until she died. Alastor had his very first taste of human flesh that night. "You and your mother were close?" He asked, taking another bite of his meal. 

Anthony nodded, looking to his side as he chuckled slightly. "I remember...she would dance in the kitchen. She would play songs on the radio an' would dance while cookin' or cleanin', once she danced with me and my siblings until we were so dizzy we collapsed." Anthony whispered, his heart full of fond memories. "What about you? Mom or dad?" Anthony asked gently. 

"I've never been close with my father. He would beat us black and blue and then pass out in the bathroom. My mother was very kind. We were never rich, but we got by." Alastor said simply, an evil glint in his eye as he spoke of his father. "She liked to sew, would make beautiful dresses and suits. The finest embroidery you ever seen." Alastor spoke fondly, taking sip of his wine. "What about you? Any interests? I would like to know who I'm working with." The man smiled. 

"Well I like cookin', but ya know that. I once wanted t' act. Me and Molls would put on shows for my mama. I like guns...speak Italian...hate storms hate them...aquariums. My mama would take us t' the aquarium uptown. I loved t' see all the different fish." Anthony explained, desperately trying to find something that would peak his interest. "I like pink? Yeah I know girly." He explained, rolling his eyes. "Oh I can play trumpet and accordion, don't know if that's interestin'. What about you?"

Alastor was pleasantly surprised with Anthony's response. It felt natural, fun, like this was someone he didn't want to butcher. "Well I love radio. I remember my mother bought me one when I was young. I've never been so happy. Since then I've wanted to own my own show, and I do! I like to sing sometimes, dancing, I've picked up a few dad jokes." Alastor chuckled to himself. Trying to think of something to say. "I don't like being touched, not a fan of sugar, hate dogs. My father had this huge dog that would bark and growl whenever I got near. Left a pretty nasty scar." Alastor explained, showing a deep scar across his shoulder. 

"Ya own yer own show! How old are ya anyways?" Anthony asked, rather enjoying their talk.

"Twenty-six." Alastor replied simply. "I usually talk about crimes, broadcasting murders or cheap petty crimes. Though sometimes I play music." He smiled, enthusiastically showing his pride. 

"Any friends?" 

"A few. You'll meet them. You?" 

"No."

They kept talking, learning new things about each other. They actually enjoyed each other's company. Their talk discovered a broad range everything from tastes in dances to childhood. Anthony picked up the dishes and put them in the sink gently scrubbing off the remaining food or grease. It felt almost too natural, as if they lived like this for years. As if Anthony was almost killed the night before. They were just too people who had a meal together. "What do we tell people? I mean we aren't technically lovers. Well we ain't. Jus' partners. Still 's illegal." Anthony caught himself, desperate for any sort of love. 

"We'll say we're friends, business partners. They know me as only Alastor Devaux, radio show host with his obnoxious partner. Now! I hate to rush us, but shall we leave?" Alastor suggested gesturing towards the door. 

Anthony stood up, looking around the home he has hated for so long. How badly he wanted to leave, but why was it so hard now. Taking in a sharp breath, he nodded picking up his bag and walking out the front door. "Well, Smiles? Ya ready?" Anthony asked cheerfully, walking down the sidewalk. 

Alastor's eye twitched as he heard the nickname. How childish and cheap, still his smile didn't falter as they walked down the street together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if things get too graphic. Also! I do not speak Italian nor French, so if I get anything wrong blame Google Translate. Hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor and Anthony share a romantic evening while denying their feelings. 
> 
> Warning! This chapter contains abuse and homophobic slurs.

"How much longer?" Asked Anthony, he just got back from a long night, closeted guys were pretty fucking rude. It had been about a month since they ran off. Anthony had to stay hidden from most people, just going out at night to make money. Alastor actually got a job at a small butcher shop. That was actually nice, they got to eat whatever was left over. They saved enough to buy a small house right outside of the city. It wasn't much, they didn't have a lot, but they were able to keep their heads up. Alastor apparently had to sell most of his ma's jewelry in order to gain as much money as they had. It wasn't so bad. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen. They usually stayed in the bedroom or the kitchen. 

The plan to kill Val wasn't going as smoothly as the two thought it would be. Alastor was used to doing this alone, and Anthony had no experience in killing whatsoever. They came up with a makeshift plan, Anthony would lure Val way to somewhere secluded, then they would attack. It was messy and not full proof, but it would work for now. 

"Patience, my dear." Alastor sighed, irritation laced in his tone. The past month has been...interesting. Anthony was a very perverted partner. His sarcastic nature was a bore and had no class to him whatsoever. He was loud, obnoxious, annoying, everything that Alastor wasn't. "We'll do it tomorrow." He sighed, writing a few things down.

Anthony nodded, looking over his shoulder with a sly smile. "Whatcha writin'? Notes for ya big show?" Anthony smiled, wrapping his arms around the shorter male. 

"Please refrain from touching me…" Alastor spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Ya got work tonight?" Anthony sighed, removing his arms from Alastor's shoulders. He flopped down at the kitchen table, unsure about what to do. He wouldn't go to work tonight since it was raining, soaking wet hair was bad for business. Though being sixteen he didn't really understand why. He watched as Alastor still wrote in his journal, Anthony used to keep a journal until his pops told him it was too feminine. 

"Yes. I won't be back until late so don't wait up." Alastor spoke, standing up and walking out of the door. He left Anthony just sitting there feeling empty. 

The two shared some moments. Alastor screamed at Anthony for buying all sorts of spices, claiming they didn't have money to spend on such nonsense. Though Anthony protested about having decent food to eat through this hell hole. There were some good moments though, laughs and long talks took up most of their nights. Alastor even helped Anthony to bed after a long night hooking. Anthony would never admit it out loud, but his feelings towards the older male became stronger with each passing day. It went to the point of Anthony's heart hurting whenever he saw the man. Though he just brushed his feelings aside and pretended like everything was fine. 

Now Anthony sat there with a heavy sigh. Alastor always grew distant whenever Anthony touched him. Though the teen couldn't help himself, Alastor made him feel so safe. A grin spread across Anthony's face as he pulled out all the spices and herbs he had bought a week prior. There was just enough for what he wanted to do. Luckily the butchers had some shrimp last night…

Anthony spent most of the night working, chopping and stirring until his desired taste. He added some chicken and pork for a more Italian flavor to the dish, hopefully Alastor wouldn't mind. His shirt was a mess from broth and fixing shrimp, but he had just enough time to get all dressed up. Sure Alastor might not like the gesture, but he made a deal to Anthony, he could just play it off as one of those intimate moments. Leaving the food slow cooking, he ran into the small bedroom and looked through his clothing. He didn't have anything really nice. Though he remembered the flapper dress that Molls gave him for his birthday a few years ago. The dress was beautiful, black sequins and shiny fabric with some red lace embedded though the hem and bodice. He had just the shoes and necklace to wear with this. 

About fifteen minutes after Anthony finished setting the table and lighting a few candles, Alastor walked through the door. "Darling, I saw the lights-" Alastor stopped mid sentence as he walked into the kitchen. There stood Anthony in the most flattering flapper dress he had ever seen. It seemed perfectly elegant on the young man, perfect despite being worn by girls. "Darling?" 

"I know ya don't see me in any romantic way, but I thought, maybe ya wouldn't mind havin' dinner wit me? My ma had an' old Jambalaya recipe so...an' I know ya said it was ya favorite." Anthony spoke, running his gloved hands down his skirt. It still fit so nice on him. 

"My dear, how could I refuse your generosity!" Alastor proclaimed as he reached for the young man's hand. The food did smell so heavenly, all the spices mixing together wonderfully. "This smells amazing, my dear." Alastor dipped ever so slightly, brushing his lips against Anthony's knuckles. 

Anthony's face flushed deeply, who knew a small kiss could be so intimate? He just nodded as Alastor guided him to his seat. Soft jazz music played in the background from an old radio found on the streets. The setting was all too romantic, this had been Anthony's first "date" and it felt so magical, even if he did most of the work. 

Alastor pushed Anthony's seat in and sat down himself. This was all too romantic, and Anthony might have gotten the wrong idea, but Alastor could always blame it on the wine later. Reaching in, he took a small bite, his eyes immediately widening at the explosion of flavor that danced on his tongue. "Darling, this is absolutely delicious, you never fail to exceed expectations." Alastor complimented, taking a larger bite this time. Though it probably made his mother roll in her grave, he had to admit that Anthony's was better. Especially for a first time try. "May I ask, what is the special occasion?" Alastor asked, leaning in gently. 

"Well...ya seem so tense lately. An' well...I wanted t' do something nice." Anthony spoke, only half telling the truth. He wanted this to be real, for them to actually be a couple. He would stay at home like mama did, Alastor would greet him every night with a kiss. They would dance, cuddle, sing, it would be the perfect life. Anthony had to take a bite of his food to bring him back to reality. This wasn't a date. They were just two friends...having dinner. 

"So you said you wanted to open a bakery? Why not a restaurant?" Alastor suggested, taking a sip of wine. 

"See that was the plan! Molls would run the restaurant, ya should taste her cookin' way better than mine. Then right next door I would run my bakery. I love sweets, they're my specialty." Anthony praised, a smile growing on his face from the fond memory. 

"I don't see how anything could top this." Alastor spoke truthfully. "What did you add? Not the meat, some sort of spice." Alastor commented. It wasn't an insult, he was quite surprisingly surprised. 

"Sugar and basil." Anthony smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks. He was quite impressed with the meal, it was better than he hoped it would turn out. "Would ya ma' like it?" He asked with a teasing smile. Alastor often talked about his mother, it was nice to hear him talk about something warm and homey. 

"Definitely, though she would probably be insulted that you tried her favorite dish." Alastor teased, subconsciously reaching out to hold Anthony's hand. 

The conversation turned to fond memories and back and forth banter. They actually fell into this comfortable situation where it felt like they've known each other for years. The age differences seemed to disappear as they laughed so hard that they had to spit out their food. Anthony told fond stories from when him and Molly were kids. In return Alastor found a few jokes that seemed to make Anthony split his sides. Their hands never broke away, smiles never faded. This was natural, this was right. Even Alastor felt a foreign feeling swell his heart. 

Once the meal was finished a fond song known as 'Blue Skies' started playing on the radio. Alastor stood up, reaching his hand out to Anthony. "Care to dance?" 

Anthony blushed as he shook his head. "Nah, I have two left feet." He joked, trying to stop the ache in his heart. 

"Nonsense." Alastor replied, pulling the taller man to his feet. Though Anthony was taller, Alastor led them through a simple waltz. Anthony occasionally stepped on his feet once in a while or would bump into something when Alastor dipped him. "You dance beautifully, my dear." Alastor praise, pushing Anthony into a slow twirl. The dress was beautiful. He was beautiful. Alastor didn't say it, but that didn't stop him from looking his dance partner up and down. 

Anthony couldn't stop himself from smiling at the dance. Alastor's hands were warm, fit on his hips and hand perfectly. They were so close, he could feel Alastor breath against his cheek. Alastor spun Anthony once more before dipping him gently. The song had long ended, but they didn't. They stayed in that position for quite awhile. For the first time Alastor noticed faint freckles across Anthony's cheeks. He leaned in ever so gently, their lips centimeters apart before Anthony cleared his throat. They stood up and awkwardly stared at each other. 

"I-I should head t' bed." Anthony sighed, a small smile on his lips as he gave Alastor a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Night." He whispered before heading to the bedroom. 

"Yes, goodnight...mon ange." Alastor whispered, his heart pounding and confused. 

______________________________________________________

The day had finally arrived. They planned and waited all night until Anthony was ready to face off his abusive lover. His heart raced in his chest as he headed down the street. Alastor wasn't far behind, but far enough to make it seem like the two weren't together. He stopped at the usual alleyway that Val liked to meet him at. There weren't any cops around and most of the apartments had been abandoned. Sweat ran down Anthony's neck as he waited in agony for Val to show up.

"Anglecakes…" 

Anthony tensed at the nickname. Chills ran down his spine as he plastered a fake smile on his face. "Hi daddy, did ya miss me?" Anthony whispered, a sultry smile spread across his lips to stop the gag rise in his throat as Val snaked a hand around his waist. 

"Of course baby...ya gonna be a good boy?" Val chuckled, dipping his head low as his other hand grabbed a hold of Anthony's cheeks. "'Cause I thought I saw you walk around with some dude. I thought you were loyal, baby?" Val asked with mock sympathy and tenderness. 

"J-jus a regular...h-he pays good daddy…" Anthony whispered, his voice was shaky and uncertain. 

A stinging pain ran across Anthony's face. The slap wasn't much, but just enough to make Anthony's lip quiver. "D-daddy ya hurtin' me…" Anthony whispered as Val grabbed a hold of his shoulder. A knee to the gut was all Anthony needed to collapse from pain. 

"I own you! How could you possibly think that he would care about a fag like you!" Val yelled as a boot came down on Anthony's sides. 

"I-I'm sorry daddy…" Anthony whispered. 

Alastor watched in horror as this progressed. How dare this man...no...this rat lay a hand on his dear Anthony. He stood up from his hiding spot and made his way towards the beast. "I suggest you let him go my dear fellow." Alastor's voice held disgust. Hatred dripped off his tongue as if it were honey. This new feeling hit him all at once as if he was hit with a train. Compassion, protection, yearning. Emotions were a foreign concept for Alastor, but one was apparent. 

Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I hope it was worh it!
> 
> Yes I based this chapter off The Princess and the Frog. 
> 
> Yes, I believe Anthony would be a flapper if it was socially appropriate at the time.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Alastor finally get what they wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains heavy violence.

Valentino stared at the man in red. A deep chuckle ripped through him as he pulled Anthony to stay against his chest. "Oh, is this your friend Angelcakes?" Val teased, keeping a harsh grip on his shoulder that would definitely leave a mark later. 

"L-leave him outta this Val. I'm sorry." Anthony begged. The plan escaped his mind completely, the only thing he knew was that Valentino was bigger, stronger, and had more of a presence than Alastor ever had. Logic and focus left him as he violently shook in this rat's arms. How dare he think that he deserved love. That happiness was something he could afford. 

Alastor's predatory gaze softened only slightly as he looked at the scared man in front of him. All images that were presented told a different story. His body shook and hid in fear, terrifying helplessness that he couldn't help. His voice was strong and steady, a facade to hide what was truly happening. Anthony had always pretended to be happy. Sickly sweet bubblegum smiles and sticky honey like lies that kept this childlike wonder alive. Though as much as Anthony fought, there was no denying the shattered glass in his eyes. The way he cries himself to sleep every night. There was no pretending then. "Nonsense, my dear." Alastor sighed, his eyes narrowing towards the brooding man in front of him. "You will let him go." 

Val continued to laugh at the man, not saying much besides a short 'really'. His hand wrapped around Anthony's neck, a mocking smile on his face. "Or what?" He asked, keeping Anthony in place. "He's having fun, aren't you Angelcakes?" Val teased, pulling Anthony into a rough kiss. 

Anthony tried to pull away, a frustrated groan escaped his mouth as bile rose in his throat. 

Alastor saw red at that point. His ever plastered smile quickly turned to a scowl as he reached towards his gun. Firing one shot, Val fell back cradling his now punctured knee. He cried out in pain as a sinister smile spread across Alastor's face, his eyes held a dangerous sort of joy. Hunger. He walked forward with lidded eyes. "My fine fellow, I'm afraid that I cannot believe such lies." His boot pressed against his chest. "You see, I've seen men like you before. So tough. So powerful. But it is so crazy how men like yourself are so easy to break." Alastor spoke, his voice dripping with anger. 

"S-so what? You're gonna kill me now?" Val spit, moaning from his bleeding leg. 

Alastor let out a laugh, his foot digging harder into his chest. He pulled out one of his many knives. "You see, this is my favorite knife. But I simply cannot have entertainment from me doing the honors. So I shall leave that to your fine friend over there." He got up and walked towards Anthony, lifting him to his feet while rubbing a thumb over his cheek. "Enjoy, Cher." Alastor whispered. 

Anthony shakily grabbed the knife from Alastor, his gaze flickering between it and Val. Hesitation was soon lost as he straddled the large man. Bringing his arms back, he lunged forward, planting the knife right in his chest. He pulled back again and again plunged the knife into his bloodied chest. Blood splattered over Anthony and Val as tears poured down Anthony's cheeks. Three fucking years under his thumb, no more! A smile spread across his face as he continued the bloody assault, even after Val was long gone. With one final blow, Anthony sat there, his chest heaving up and down as he struggled to catch his breath. He just killed someone…

Alastor watched with hungry eyes, his smile seemed to spread wider as he watched the angelic sight before him. Blood splattered and exhausted, Anthony was truly a magnificent sight. The young boy stood up, wrapping his arms around himself. 

"S-so what n-"

In an instant, Anthony was against the brick wall behind him in a passionate kiss. Alastor pinned him to the wall, deepening the kiss. Anthony only had a moment to react before he moaned and wrapped his arms around the man's neck. This was true affection, not the shit he got paid for, this was real. For once he was able to be held the way he loved so good. "A-Al'..." Anthony whimpered, dragging a hand to Alastor's cheek. The shorter male's hand slid down until he was holding onto his hips, pulling him closer as he tried to push down the panic growing inside of him. Affection had never been easy. 

The two reluctantly broke away from the kiss in order to catch their breaths. "Dat was...somethin'..y' okay wit dis?" Alastor asked, his voice low and heavy. 

Anthony's eyes widened with shock. Where did that come from! He groaned while biting his lip. "Keep talkin' like that an' I'll be more than okay with it." Anthony teased, pulling the man back into another hungry kiss. 

This time it was frantic, desperate, the two trying to pull at every bit of flesh that they could. Blood now coated both lips in a rich iron flavor. Alastor groaned, sliding his tongue against Anthony's blood soaked lips. Anthony of course granted him access, deepening the kiss as he pulled against Anthony's shoulders. He let go for an instant to start unbuttoning his shirt. Alastor grabbed a hold of his wrists before he could. "No. Not here. Not now. Not like this." Alastor sighed, running a thumb over Anthony's cheek. 

Anthony nodded, a feeling of warmth swelled in his heart as he grabbed a hold of Alastor's hand. "W-wait. B-but yer a guy. Doesn't this bother you?" Anthony asked in a panicked tone. 

"Why would it Cher?" Alastor asked, walking forward, dragging Anthony with him. True this was new to the both of them, Alastor had no idea how to even deal with these feelings. Much less act out on them. But he wouldn't hurt Anthony, he just couldn't. "We should go." Alastor sighed, pulling Anthony close to him. Too close. His heart hammered in his chest as he just focused on walking forward. 

Soon enough they made it back to their small little home. Anthony at this point was emotionally checked out. So much had happened in the last hour, so so much. His body ached from the bruises. He hurt so bad and yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy towards the fact that Alastor walked him to the bathroom and ran a bath for him. Small things. Little things were just enough. 

Alastor helped Anthony undress and eased him into the water. Anthony gave him a weak smile as he washed the blood and sweat from his skin. Alastor combed through his hair, his smile softening. "Yer so soft…" He spoke softly, tenderness wasn't something he was used to, but he remembered taking care of his mother. Remembering after she forgot how to walk and talk she would smile while he took care of her. Soft hums left Alastor as somber memories clouded his mind for just a moment. How could a woman who was so happy, become an empty shell of who she was supposed to be. 

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Anthony asked, his hand resting against the other's shoulder. 

Alastor shook his head, his voice cracking slightly. "Now now, dis 's for y'." Alastor spoke, washing his dear Anthony gently. Soon the blood was all gone and he was able to pick up Anthony gently. "Y' gonna be okay." He whispered, walking him over to the small, creaky bed. 

Anthony smiled, pulling him down for another small kiss. It was warm and gentle. Nothing like before. "What now?" 

"Now we run."

"Where?"

"How does N'Orleans sound?" 

The two met in one more passionate kiss. Slow and gentle. Full of hope for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shorter chapter. This is the end of this series but I will continue!


End file.
